Your Ex-Lover is (Not) Dead
by SnowboundMermaid
Summary: "Introduced" by a mutual acquaintance, an estranged Barney and Robin find they have some important unfinished business between them.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: In 2019, "introduced" by a mutual acquaintance, an estranged Barney and Robin discover they have some unfinished business between them.

Disclaimer: I do not own HIMYM or anything vaguely related to it. This is only my own what-if imagining.

**PART ONE**

Paris, 2019

"Excuse me, Barney." Barney turned at the tap on his shoulder to face Maurice, a potential GNB client and the host for the night's soiree. Good enough as French parties went, and one more night alone in his hotel room was going to drive him out of what little of his mind he'd managed to retain in the past year. Volunteering to scope out international prospects for GNB got him out of New York, but too much of the old baggage followed him, even here in Paris. "Haaave you met Robin? She is from New York as well."

Robin Sherbatsky stood next to Maurice, her dress black lace over nude satin. The hair was new, longer than he remembered, and a slightly different shade, but definitely, unarguably Robin. The world tilted around him, the white lights strung about the shapes of the topiary garden swirling in a crazy kaleidoscope. Barney transferred the glass he held to his left hand and extended his right. "Barney Stinson. Small world, huh?"

"Robin Sherbatsky," she said as she placed her hand in his. "Nice to meet you."

_Still Sherbatsky. Thank God_. Though that didn't necessarily mean anything. He chanced a glance at her left hand. No luck there; the wrap she carried over her arm obscured her ring finger.

Maurice clapped them both on the shoulder, his long, thin face breaking into a wide smile. "I will leave you two to get acquainted. Such a big city, you must have something in common, eh?"

Be cool, Barney told himself as Maurice waved to his next target, another guest on the other side of the garden, leaving him alone in the crowd with Robin. "Well, that was awkward."

Robin shook her head. "Nah. Maurice's pretty clueless about these kinds of things. He's pleased enough to have remembered you and I once lived on the same continent. That fulfills his duties as a genial host. If he talks to either of us for the rest of the night, I'll be surprised."

"And you and Maurice are…" Barney let the sentence dangle, raising one brow as he put the glass to his lips and let the scotch slip down his throat.

Robin's mouth pursed, then straightened. "Colleagues. He's a producer, but you know him." She waved a hand in dismissal. "How do you know Maurice?"

"GNB. That's why I came to Paris. He defaulted on a big loan and either I get payment in full or I whack him."

"You are _ not_ a hit man." Robin paused. "Are you?"

He'd missed her, missed this, but this wasn't time for a game of real or fake. "I'm not," he said, "just wanted to try out what I'm going to tell that blonde over there in the red dress." He gestured with the half-emptied glass.

"Good luck with that. Her husband is a mixed martial arts fighter who collects antique swords, and she owns her own blowtorch."

Barney allowed the ghost of a smile for the briefest second. He knew all of that. He'd had dinner with the pair of them, and their portfolio, the night before. "Maybe not, then." He leaned against the stone railing behind him with practiced nonchalance. "So, I take it we've just met, Mademoiselle Sherbatsky?"


	2. Chapter 2

PART TWO

Robin drew in a ragged breath and forced her best news anchor smile. Halfway around the world, and Barney Stinson could still manage to find her, still manage to sweep all logic and reason out from under her. "That's probably best. I don't talk about my personal life at work." Robin's gaze dropped from his.

Barney broke the silence. "Is that why Maurice thinks we don't know each other? Does he even know you have an ex-husband?"

Robin fidgeted with the fringe on her wrap, unspoken words dying on her lips before she answered him. "Like I said, I don't talk about my personal life at work. It's stupid."

"Nothing about you is stupid." The pure honesty in his voice cut her to the quick. "So, Paris, swanky party, you and me, and nobody knows we know each other. We could do anything here. An-y-thing, and they would totally buy it because they don't know any better."

"Options." Robin inclined her head in a curt nod. "We sure have them." She bit down on her tongue, to keep back whatever words might spring up of their own will. She'd run halfway around the world to get away from the shambles of their failed marriage, but there Barney was, the man who wanted to stay in New York. The impact of him hadn't lessened one bit. I_ am desperately in love with you and I always will be and that's the real reason I never mentioned you to anybody here. _ She took in a deep breath. Facts. Focus on the facts. Gather information. Breathe. "Are you here with anybody?"

The corners of Barney's mouth twitched. "I'm single. I've been single. I will remain single."

The admission sent a shock racing along her spine, triggering the instinct to escape. _Barney. Single._ Panic churned in her gut. Adrenaline racied through her system.

She knew that he, the one-time master faker, wasn't faking anything, that the naked vulnerability she sees in his eyes was all too real. "You really didn't know I was going to be here?"

"I really didn't. If you want me to leave now, I will." The inner corners of his brows flashed upwards by the slightest degree.

"I don't want that."

Relief warmed his eyes, the flicker of mischief, beautiful, distracting mischeif. Some grand and glorious scheme so they could fall back into what was most comfortable. Like drunk hotel sex before offering him a divorce. "So what do we do now?"

"I don't know."

"Take a guess."

Robin affected a casual shrug. "Awkward small talk?"

Barney nodded at the possibility. "We could have awkward small talk", he allowed, or we could try something different."

"Like what?"

"We're in the most romantic city on earth. Nights like this only happen once in a lifetime." This was the Barney she remembered, the Barney she loved. The Barney she thought she'd had to leave behind forever.

They both paused for placid smiles and a casual wave as their host danced by, at the head of a conga line, a frilly hot pink cocktail hat perched on his dark hair. She didn't want to know why. "Not for Maurice. This is pretty much Thursday for him."

Barney scoffed. "Forget Maurice. Forget everything else. Five minutes ago, this was another boring business event, for both of us but now it's something else. Because you and I are in the same place at the same time, it's something better. It's fate. It's the universe telling us we have unfinished business. What if we do pretend this is the first time we've ever met? Nobody else here knows that. To them, Robin and Barney are two extremely attractive exotic strangers. They don't know any different."


	3. Chapter 3

PART THREE

Robin couldn't argue with that, and losing herself in some grand spectacle beat the hell out of awkward small talk. "So, what, we should put on a show?"

Barney broke into a wide, uncensored grin that seemed to light him from within. "Exactly. A spectacular, unforgettable show that these poor idiots will be telling their pathetic French grandchildren over sippy cups of Pinot Noir."

"So what do we do?" She glanced over her shoulder. "I could push you into that fountain with the mermaid statue." Then she'd kick off her heels, run like hell and be on the first flight leaving for anywhere on the planet. Grand, glorious moments always ended, always left her cold and alone. Even him. Especially him. She couldn't handle that again.

Barney held out his hand, palm up, fingers spread. "Trust me?" He didn't wait for a response, but tilted his head toward the center of the garden. "Follow my lead."

Despite her better judgement, Robin placed her hand in his, drawing strength from the familiar warmth, the slight, reassuring, pressure of his touch. The this-will-be-fun glint in his eyes. She'd follow that look anywhere. Together, they wove past the other guests, ducking beneath strings of lights, snaking around a cluster of marble statues. Robin resisted for only a moment when she saw the dance floor growing closer and closer, but only a moment. A whisper to one of the musicians, a transfer of crinkled paper from Barney's pocket to the musician's hand and the music changed, a brash, lively beat vibrating through the air. Her feet, her entire body, itched to move with him again, dance like they had at Punchy's wedding, at their wedding. It didn't matter that they hadn't planned, hadn't rehearsed. That they'd have to rely on instinct and instinct alone to make something glorious instead of grotesque.

It didn't matter that they hadn't talked to each other in over a year. The connection was there, flooding Robin with the love and the light and the life she'd dragged from day to day without for longer than she cared to admit. Time hadn't eroded it, silence hadn't drowned it, and the divorce decree hadn't done a damned thing to get rid of the bond that had always been between them. Would always be between them.

Memories of her life with Barney came at her rapid-fire. The time she'd invited him to her place to play battleship only to find him undressing when she came out of her bedroom with the game in hand. Barney, comforting her after Simon dumped her again, with his words, with his kisses, with his body. Barney making the stupid video resume that allowed her to stay in New York. Barney, chasing her all the way to Canada and standing on a table in Tim Horton's and chastising an entire country for letting her get away. Barney leaping across the rooftop to join her. Not the whole gang, but _her_. Oh God. Barney. She would always love, always want, always need Barney. No matter how far she ran, no matter where her work took her, her heart would forever be tied to this crazy, wild, perfect man.

She pulled her hand away from his. "I don't want to dance."

Barney blinked only once, then tugged at the knot of his tie. "What do you want to do? If you want to push me in the mermaid fountain, can I at least take off my jacket first?"


	4. Chapter 4

PART FOUR

"I don't want to push you in the fountain," Robin said before Barney could shuck out of his jacket. "I don't want to throw drinks at you. I want," she took in a deep breath, her gaze shooting skyward before settling on Barney once more. "I want to know what happened to us."

"What happened to us?" Barney echoed her words, each syllable separate and distinct, his eyes blinking as though that could filter out all the questions that hung unspoken between them. "We got divorced."

Divorced. The word sounded bitter on his tongue, a word too harsh, too sad to ever come from those lips of his. Robin reached for his hand again, catching the cuff of his shirt. "I want to know how we got from what we were when we were together, to this. We both know Maurice, and he thought we didn't know each other. We were _married,_ Barney. Married. We promised to spend the rest of our lives with each other and then we didn't."

Three precise lines creased Barney's brow, deeper now than Robin remembered, his mouth tilting up at the corners by the smallest degree. "Are you sure this is what you want? This could be our only shot at giving these people something to talk about for the rest of their lives. We can talk tomorrow."

Robin straightened her shoulders, her jaw set firm. "No, we can't. We could have fun tonight, but then one of us, probably me, would get scared and hop on the first flight leaving for anywhere that isn't here. It'll be another five years, maybe more, before we see each other again. Maybe never. If I never see you again, I want some answers."

"Then ask."

Okay. Ask. She could ask questions. That's why they paid her the big bucks. "Did you really leave me because the hotel didn't have wifi? Was your blog more important than us? Was living in New York more important? Just because the off ramp was there didn't mean you had to take it. Why did you?"

Barney's hand kneaded at his forehead, the music sounding to Robin now as though it came from miles and not feet away. Now that she'd asked, she didn't want to know, but she wouldn't take back a single word. A girl had to have some pride, and the journalist part of her insisted on committing to the questions she'd posed.

"I left," Barney responded, dumbstruck, "because I thought that would make you happy. That you wouldn't have to worry about some overgrown man-child staring forty in the face and still not having any idea what he was actually going to do with his life. I thought that if I couldn't figure out my own life, I could make yours better."

"It's not better." The words leapt out of their own accord.

Barney blinked and took half a step back as though the words had hit him with physical force. "I'm sorry. If I didn't make it better, I need to know – did I make it worse?"

She needed no time to think about her response. "Yeah, Barney, you did. You made it worse. I kept waiting for you to walk back in through that door, and every hour, every day, you didn't, part of me died. Then you didn't meet me in Beijing and your stuff was gone from the apartment and the papers, and," she swallowed, casting a furtive glance to the dance floor. _Wrong choice, Sherbatsky_.

The rapid flash of emotions across his face went too fast for Robin to name them all. Sorrow. Regret. Concern. Bewilderment. Desperation. He was the first to break eye contact and the first to resume it. "I don't know what to say to that. Guess I really was bad for you after all, whether I was there with you or not." Shaking fingers fussed with the knot of his tie. "Go find Maurice and I'll," paused, "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"No," she said, the surety of what she wanted flooding her heart, her soul and her entire being. She wanted this man, this time, this place, this moment, to wipe out the greatest mistake she had ever made, and the strength of that desire wiped away all the fear in one sweep. "It's not okay. Barney Stinson, you are the love of my life, and if I were to walk away from you tonight, or let you walk away from me, I would never forgive myself." She dropped to one knee and grasped Barney's hand. It looked bare without his wedding ring – her wedding ring. Indecently naked. "Will you marry me? I don't have a ring to give you right now, but…"

Barney didn't let her finish. "I do." With his free hand, he reaches into his suit pocket and withdrew the very same ring Robin put on his finger all those years ago, the ring she thought she'd never see again.

She blinked. "Wait, is that…"

Barney's lips tilted into a sad, little-boy smile. "I wear it sometimes when I travel. Keeps me from getting trampled to death by hot foreign babes. He swallowed. "Do you," he paused, "do you really mean that? You really want to be married to me? We just re-met. We practically are strangers."

"I really do, and we could never be strangers. Only no off-ramps this time. Whatever problems we have, we'll work them out."

"No off-ramps," Barney agreed. "This time, it's for life, because living without you is not anything close to living. You, Robin Sherbatsky, put the 'awe' in awesome. Without you, I'm only 'some.'"

"You're an idiot."

"For you, always." Barney started to put his ring back on, but Robin protested.

"Stop."

The flush of joy drained from his face, leaving him pale and stricken once more. "Stop?"


	5. Chapter 5

PART FIVE

"I want to do it. Putting that ring on you is my job."

"I agree." Barney handed the ring over. "Too bad I don't have a ring for you. First thing in the morning, I'm calling my ring guy."

Robin shook her head and dashed away tears with the back of her hand. "You do _not_ have a ring guy in Paris. Hold this, but do not put it on." She dropped the ring in Barney's hand as she fumbled with the clasp of the small sequined purse that hung from a chain over her shoulder. She fished inside, the purse hanging open enough for Barney to spy her shaking fingers skipping over a small mother of pearl handled pistol, a can of mace and tube of lipstick to extract a very familiar gold band, the mate to Barney's own. She held it up in the glow of the fairy lights. "Me too. Keeps the hot foreign dudes away."

"Smart," was the only word Barney could manage, too bathed in the glow of _her_ to give voice to anything else. She extended the ring to him, between thumb and forefinger, her other hand outstretched to receive his ring again. The rest of the world faded away. There was no crowd anymore, only the two of them, in a world all their own, one that only existed when they are together. One that he knew would never vanish again as long as they both would live

"Barney Stinson, will you marry me again?"

"Robin Sherbatsky, yes, I will," he announced, his voice ringing clear and true in the night. They both slid their rings home, where they had always belonged.

Applause exploded around them as the band struck up a waltz and Barney took his ex-ex-wife into his arms. She fit there, her head resting on his shoulder, all of her moving along with him as though they had never been apart.

"Does this mean we have to plan another wedding?" Her words, her breath, caressed his ear.

Barney's hand settled in the small of Robin's back. _Daddy's home_. "I would love to have a hundred weddings with you," he answered. "No, a thousand, a million, even, but it's not necessary."

Robin made a small sound of pure contentment. "This is enough."

"It is," Barney replied, "but we don't have to get remarried, because we're not divorced. Technically."

Robin stopped in mid-step. Her head snapped up, blue eyes wide with astonishment. "What?"

"Next time you look at our divorce papers, you'll see they're signed by Lorenzo Von Matterhorn. Are you mad?"

She landed a soft punch on his shoulder before she grasped him by the lapels and drew him back to her. "I left off the 'Junior' when I signed."

"So, technically, Lorenzo Von Matterhorn is divorced from your dad?"

"Looks that way."

Barney let out a long, low whistle. "Sucks to be them. If those two crazy kids couldn't make it work, who can?"

"Us," Robin answered, her voice strong, sure and intimate. "We can."

"We can," Barney echoed. This was real. This was true. This was love, and he would never allow either of them to forget it again. Not for a minute, and not for a lifetime. "So, what do we do now?"

A devious, playful smile tugged at Robin's lips. "What do you say we go back to New York, keep these rings on our fingers and see how long it takes everyone to notice?"

"Awesome," Barney said, and it always was, from that day forward.


End file.
